


Guide These Hands (For The Choices Made Seal Our Fate)

by Lady_Katana4544



Series: Discarding Fate's Chains To Be By Your Side [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Canon, Dwarves In Exile, Frerin really just wants to help, Gen, Gold Sick Thrór, Gold Sickness, Hitting a child, Minor Violence, Oaths & Vows, Threats of Violence, Threats to a child, Thrór is having none of it, Weapon and Combat training, Young Frerin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6811807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/pseuds/Lady_Katana4544
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the choice has long been made and an encounter with King Thrór is had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guide These Hands (For The Choices Made Seal Our Fate)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [mephestopheles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mephestopheles) for taking time from their own works to look over this fic for me.

True to his word, Thorin helped him begin his training with weapons and learn how best to handle the different weights of each one. That is when he could reliably sneak away from the combined ever watchful gazes of both Adad and Sigin’Adad. Amad however seemed to approve of him learning to wield weapons and she seemed pleased that he had chosen to learn from Thorin.

Sometimes Thorin would employ the help of their Cousins or from the soldiers that guarded their family when he himself could not so easily sneak away to help him. Or at times he simply picked some that could be spared from guarding the boundaries of their camp. 

He found that he was rather enjoying his training.

Today marked the third week since speaking with Thorin on the matter and in place of his brother, he was practicing sword fighting with a guardsman named Krorsae and his younger brother, Korrsaeth. 

“C’mon lads. Both of ye quit standing still and move your blasted feet! Your enemy won’t be letting you stand in one place.”

In hindsight, he should perhaps realized that where there good times to be had that sometimes bad ones would also follow. The loss of their home in the Lonely Mountain would be a good example of that.

“What is the meaning of this?”

He just barely misses cutting off one of Korrsaeth’s braids in startled surprise when upon finding the three of them together, Sigin’Adad comes roaring and stomping up to their practice area. King Thrór surveys them all with a dark look growing in his eyes before slowly coming to rest on him. They pin him in place with a narrow eyed stare that speaks of fell things soon to happen. Of a madness that he cannot even begin to understand.

“ _You_.”

“Grandfather.”

“Your Majesty. We -”

“Be silent while I deal with this one.”

He stands his ground as Thrór settles for ignoring the bewildered guardsman and his confused brother standing just to his right after telling him to be silent and settles for looming over him.

“I will not ask again. What is the meaning of this?”

He shrugs lightly as he gestures with one hand while the other keeps the tip of his sword pointed towards the ground.

“Just some practice, Sigin’Adad. I wanted -”

“You will cease at once.”

Frowning at the interruption, he stares up at the taller Dwarf.

“But why? If I can learn how wield a weapon properly and fight with it, then I can help you and our warriors protect our people from further harm.”

King Thrór stares hard at him and growls low in the back of his throat, before moving his hand to poke roughly into his chest.

“I see through your games, lad. You want for the crown and a throne that will not ever be yours while I live. You will cease this nonsense at once. I command that you follow this order.”

Irritated by the accusation, he bats the finger away from his chest as he stares at his Sigin’Adad. Wanting the crown that he has no immediate interest in and a throne that they recently lost to a dragon? No. That is not something he wants. The only desire in his heart is to safeguard the survival of his family and the remaining peoples of Erebor.

“No. I don’t want any of that, Sigin’Adad. I simply want to he -”

He doesn’t see the swift backhand coming his way until his left cheek begins to sting and he crumbles against the rock face behind him. Shocked he puts his hand to his cheek and looks up at the hand that struck him and at the snarling, spitting creature that holds the face of his Grandfather. That hand he notes quietly to himself that still carries a few of the rings he had so liked to wear and would have tolerantly allowed him to play with in the old days long before Erebor’s fall.

A few of those rings that he recalled never had red stones on them.

“You will keep that witless silver tongue and vile thoughts of yours behind your teeth, lad. And if you wish to keep that silver tongue of yours, you will cease all this nonsense immediately.”

Then they all watch as the elder Dwarf strides away from them.

Cheek stinging from the hit, he turns to face Korrsaeth and his older brother, reminded that they had both witnessed the altercation with Thrór. Heat blooms in his cheeks under his fuzzy beard.

“You are both sworn to silence on this matter. Speak to no one of what you witnessed. Not even to my own brother should he ask.”

They both bow unhappily as they give their assurances that they won’t speak of what they had been witness too. Though Korrsaeth’s expression is slightly more mutinous and angry than that of his brother though he knows both of his friends well enough to know that they would not break an Oath of Silence that had been placed upon them.

He visits one of the apprentice healers for the sluggishly bleeding mark on his face instead of Óin, his cousin, with no one the wiser and with that apprentice sworn to an Oath of Silence. He’s then able to freely ignore the looks that his family, with the exception of Thrór, aim in his direction when he returns to them that evening. They take note of the damage to his cheek, but he’s able to keep what happened from their ears.

The encounter with Grandfather doesn’t shatter his resolve to become a warrior to protect their people and his family. If anything it really only strengthens his resolve further.


End file.
